


Let It Be

by AccioMjolnir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-18
Updated: 2004-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioMjolnir/pseuds/AccioMjolnir
Summary: Even best friends have arguments. How do Marauders deal?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 3





	Let It Be

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Remus/Sirius ficathon for livejournal user pinkdaze. She asked for Remus/Sirius angst in the "Lily/James alive era," and I'm sorry if this doesn’t quite fit, but it didn't really turn out exactly that way...

The moon was waning over Hogwarts, casting a pale light across the grounds. There was a dreary feel in the air and a cool mist over the lake; stars seemed to wink from the midnight sky as clouds veiled them and revealed them in turn. Cool night-breezes whistled through the Forbidden Forest, occasionally picking up the howl of a wolf or the hoot of an owl.  
  
Remus Lupin sat alone in the Gryffindor common room – as alone as he could get with a large black dog staring wistfully at him from near the fireplace – working on the last part of his transfiguration homework. The room was currently a very rare – and, at least to Remus, welcome – silent, the only sounds being the scratch of his quill over his parchment and the occasional sound of a dog yawning. It was a tired, stretchy sound that would sometimes culminate with the clack of teeth against teeth and the shake of a furry head.  
  
The dog wore no collar; James Potter had once tried to put one on but had found it rather awkwardly stretched around his own two legs before he had realized what had hit him, and so the dog remained collarless. Remus would sometimes affectionately pet the dog between the ears, if it was good, and sometimes if the dog was very good, he’d scratch its belly. The dog liked that best.  
  
But the dog hadn't been good today. The dog, in fact, had been exceptionally naughty. Oddly enough, it had been naughty before it had been a dog at all. Sirius had retreated into his animagus form after a particularly stinging argument with his best friend James, whose absence easily explained the silence in the common room.  
  
"Snuffles, you can't stay there forever, you should rest," Remus tried to reason with the dog. Sirius had been curled up by the fire in for almost six hours, and the fact that night had turned into very early morning and he'd still not transformed back into his bipedal form was starting to worry Remus. Sirius didn't do anything more than look back at him with his big, brown dog's eyes and turn back to the fire, staring blankly into it. "Have it your way," Remus muttered, finishing off his homework and gathering his things. He looked back sadly at the dog before getting up and going to bed.  
  
Sirius waited until Remus had left to transform back into himself. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. His dark hair fell sloppily into his eyes, but he didn't bother moving it. It always fell back anyway, though he usually thought of it as an attractive wind-tousled look that women fell for, rather than an annoying sloppy hairdo. That was how he'd described James's hair earlier that morning – annoying and sloppy – at the very beginning of what would turn into the biggest argument he'd ever have with his best friend. He felt horrible, he'd started it, but all at the same time he was convinced he'd done nothing out of the ordinary and that James had crossed the line.  
  
"James knew I was joking! He had no right!" he tried vocalizing it, thinking maybe hearing it would make it go away. The silence in the common room challenged him, daring him to raise his voice and depriving him of feedback. But blaming it on James didn't make him feel any better.  
  
"You're spending all your time with that Evans girl! You’ve left the rest of us! Do you even remember our names?" Sirius had shouted. He had expected James to realize he'd made a mistake. He had expected James to say, "You're right, Sirius, I'm sorry." It’s what Sirius always expected of James – a "yes, Sirius" answer – but James had said something in return that Sirius would never have expected him to say.  
  
"Of course I remember your name, your name is Black – what does it matter if I remember anyway when you've got that to fall back on?"  
  
"The idiot," Sirius muttered under his breath as he walked quietly up the stairs to his room. He shared the room with the other Marauders, but he expected that Remus had already fallen asleep. Sirius pushed the door open as slowly and quietly as he could, but the old, persistent creak prevailed. Remus shifted under his blankets and Sirius was caught.  
  
"So you've finally—"  
  
"Not now, Moony," Sirius said as he sat on his own bed, sounding more weary than he'd intended. It was a tone that he knew would trigger Remus to ignore all of his 'not now's and 'later's. Remus was all too predictable; Sirius sometimes joked that he'd be exactly the same at eighty – a creaky old man surrounded by books and chocolate.  
  
"Sirius," Remus got out of his bed and padded across the room to sit beside his friend. "James probably feels just as bad as you do." The sentiment incensed Sirius, who tensed beside his friend.  
  
"James doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut."  
  
"To be fair, Sirius… neither do you."  
  
"You’re no help."  
  
The two of them sat beside one another, Sirius still in his disheveled robes and loosely tied necktie and Remus in tattered old clothes that had been mercifully demoted to nightwear status, neither knowing what to say next, but both clearly uncomfortable with the silence.  
  
"Want some chocolate?" Remus offered. Sirius looked at him with one eyebrow raised, his unkempt hair shielding his view. He could see the shine of moonlight against the smoother, slightly raised scars that were only the beginning of a lifetime of upraised, shining skin. After a few moments of a raised eyebrow elicited only a shrug from Remus, Sirius gave him a half-smile.  
  
"I guess," he replied, but Remus didn't rise. They sat in silence again; two young men with no worries beyond what James will say when he returns and what he said in the first place. Sirius toed his shoes off, pushing them under his bed. Remus alternated glancing at Sirius and staring at his own hands in his lap.  
  
"He's sorry, you know," Remus offered. Sirius snorted and shook his head. Remus backpedaled a bit. "Well, I haven't actually talked to him today, but you can tell."  
  
"I'd never go back to them," Sirius declared, his voice shaky. It sounded as though Sirius had either cried about the argument earlier, or was about to. Remus hadn't heard him crack his voice since it first dropped to where it had settled; a mellow baritone usually twisted cruelly into a falsetto for shenanigans and mockery. The sound of Sirius's voice cracking was a strange sound to hear and Remus disliked it. The details of the argument were getting clearer to him the more he sat quietly beside Sirius, who was thinking to himself under his breath. Remus kept catching fragments of sentences, but the overall idea was clear.  
  
James had said something about the house of Black.  
  
Remus stared again at his hands in his lap, now clenched fists with white knuckles, good for battering but with nothing to hit; they waited in his lap for new direction. Remus relaxed his hands, the white on the knuckles fading back to their usual English pale. He placed one on his friend's shoulder. Sirius reached up and placed his hand on top of Remus's, rubbing ever so slightly with the pad of his thumb.  
  
"Moony," Sirius began to say something, but then hesitated. Remus waited for it but it never came, a sentence hanged at the noose without a trial. He didn't know yet, but years later, too many years later, he would look back sadly and wonder what his friend had just chosen not to say.  
  
Remus simply sat there, his hand on Sirius's shoulder and his heart silently on display. Sirius gave a weary sigh and leaned into Remus, resting his head on his friend's shoulder, causing the boy to wrap his arm around Sirius. The argument with James had affected him more than Remus ever thought possible – he was positive that had he not been there to sit with, Sirius would have spent the night brooding by the window with his hair properly tousled like any troubled character rightly should. When he imagined it in his head, however, Sirius looked more to be smoldering rather than brooding, and suddenly Remus was very uncomfortable. He squirmed in place, causing Sirius to sit up straight again.  
  
"What time is it?" Sirius asked. Their moment was rightly castrated, leaving Remus with mixed feelings. He couldn't get the lump out of his throat, no matter how he tried.  
  
"I haven't a clue," Remus replied, giving a small shrug. For a moment or two they sat in silence, until Sirius yawned, giving the same tired and stretchy sound as before but without the clacking canines. He even shook his head. Remus smiled, chuckling.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"You're more like that dog than you let on."  
  
"Of course I'm like that dog. I am that dog," Sirius answered incredulously, as if he was shocked that Remus wouldn't make the connection. "I'll show you."  
  
"Not again," Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius got up off the bed and then got down on all fours.  
  
"See? Just like the dog," he put his hands on Remus's knees and barked for him a few times, causing Remus to panic and shush him before all of Gryffindor house came banging on their door. Sirius, with a twinkle in his eye, began to pant dramatically, just as a dog would.  
  
"Sirius…"  
  
"I told you I'm just like that dog," he replied, only seconds before he pounced on Remus. Their foreheads collided, causing Remus to shriek. Sirius continued, however, and before he knew what was happening, Remus found his face being licked – by a fully grown teenage boy.  
  
"Sirius! You're disgusting!"  
  
"But you love me anyway," came the reply, along with a stop to the licking. Sirius had his hands planted on either side of Remus's head and was staring down at him with a veil of dark, messy hair hanging around his face. Remus's breath stopped short.  
  
"Yeah, I know," he replied, after a short pause. Sirius decided that it was time to crawl off Remus, who was still lying beneath him, now gingerly touching his forehead to see that Sirius hadn't cracked it open. He reclined beside Remus, one arm folded up behind his head and the other casually thrown across his chest.  
  
Again the boys were awash in silence, the only sound their breathing. Sirius gave another of his stretchy dog's yawns and turned to face his friend.  
  
"Moony?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Another pause. Perhaps Sirius didn't really have a question; maybe he was rewording the question he wanted to ask.  
  
"Do you think James will still be angry tomorrow?"  
  
The question was a great disappointment, but then Remus began to wonder what he'd been expecting.  
  
"I thought you were the angry one and he was the remorseful one?"  
  
"I don't feel angry anymore, though."  
  
"So don't be angry."  
  
"It's strange, Moony. I should be angry this time. It's my right as a Gryffindor. He questioned my honor, you see."  
  
"I see," came the reply. Sirius had rolled onto his side and had his head propped up on his arm. The boy had a goofy grin on his face, and Remus wondered if this change of heart had anything to do with their exchange.  
  
"I wonder what time it is," Sirius said, looking around. "This place is a mess. There aren't any clocks anywhere when you need them."  
  
"There's a charm you're meant to—"  
  
"I know, Moony," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "I was just saying that there aren't any—"  
  
"I know, Padfoot."  
  
Sirius climbed off the bed and began rummaging around his things. Remus sat up and watched, thinking that he was searching for his wand. He was amazed that Sirius hadn't gone through more of them – he was always doing stupid things with his wand or losing it completely. Somehow, however, the boy had managed to hold on to the same wand all the way through his years at Hogwarts, at least so far. Sirius gave an "ah-ha!" and pulled a watch out of his trunk.  
  
"What time is it, then?"  
  
"Four thirty," Sirius replied. Remus, ever the scholar, began to panic.  
  
"Four thirty?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard. Sirius nodded, handing him the watch. He stared at it for a bit – sure enough, it was four thirty – and then handed the watch back. He fell onto the bed and threw one arm over his eyes. Had he been more like his friend, it would have been accompanied with a dramatic sigh or a groan, but he was Remus, so it was "I've got History of Magic in four and a half hours."  
  
"So do I," Sirius attempted. He flopped back onto the bed, causing Remus to bounce a little. Sirius took the dramatizing boy's hand by the forefinger and lifted the arm from over his eyes. "We'll sleep in the back of class together. You can take a day and see what it's like to be me and James. Where is James, anyway?"  
  
"I don't have the slightest idea," Remus murmured, still feeling very melancholy about the prospect of spending the next day in a sleepwalking state. Sirius prodded him.  
  
"I can't go to bed until you get off it," Sirius said, and it took Remus a moment before he processed the statement through all of the 'oh god oh god' going on in his head.  
  
"Sorry," he muttered, getting up. Sirius grabbed his arm.  
  
"Except I kind of… I mean, the bed's big enough," he said, suddenly quiet. Remus felt his heart leap into his throat again. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and Sirius smiled, lying down on his back to stare at the ceiling. Remus fell beside him, staring not at the ceiling but at Sirius, who gave one more dog's yawn before turning his head to look at his friend.  
  
"G'night, Remus."  
  
"Goodnight, Sirius," Remus replied, closing his eyes. They slept through History of Magic.


End file.
